Occupy Your Mind
by BrazenMonkey
Summary: A collection of drabbles about Darcy and Loki, inspired by various poems.
1. False Compare

A/N: So, this is a rather spontaneously created project. I study English and French, thus also go to classes concerning poetry and I felt like transforming them a little bit or rather felt very inspired by some of them. I will post some other ones as well, and if you have any poem in mind that you would like to see used as an inspiration, feel free to tell me!  
First, I will post my drabble, followed by the poem that I used as the 'model' it.

Disclaimer: I sadly never wrote such beautiful poetry, only thing that's mine are the little stories.

Feel free to comment, criticise, enjoy and inspire!

* * *

_Inspired by Sonnet 130, by William Shakespeare._

"Don't act like you don't want me at all. 'Cause, believe it or not, Oh Mighty God Of Mischief, I know you do. You do like me."

Arms crossed, she stood in front of him, expecting him to comply. She obviously needed his confirmation.

But where would be the fun in that?

Loki raised his brows. "Like you? Woman, what could I possibly like about you?"

She flinched at his words.

Stepping closer, his eyes scanned her body, starting with her face.

"Your eyes may be very blue but rather unspectacular, I can assure you.", he said with a cold voice.

His thumbs reached out, tracing the bold line of her upper lip and the soft curve of the lower one.

"And even though your lips are rather full, they are of no fine colour."

Tracing down the fine line of her collarbone, he rested on a few inches over her chest.

"You surely are gifted with a pleasant physical appearance but only according to the easily met Midgardian conditions."

A fine curl of her chestnut hair wrapped around his index finger.

"There are poor maidens in Asgard with finer hair, not to mention the silken tresses of the nobility."

A peachy colour filled Darcy's cheeks, much to Loki's amusement. It was her angry colour.

"Not to mention your temper which is, to be quite frank, hardly tamed."

She clenched her fists, a deep crease showing between her brows.

"Your voice I would never compare to a nightingale's timbre, or what else your earthly poets refer to when praising their mistresses."

He gave her a patronizing glance and threw her a smirk. How he enjoyed throwing her off balance like that!

"No, Miss Lewis, all things considered you are no match for a god for you are ordinary, not like a goddess at all."

The twitch in her temples gave away her fury and Loki gripped her hand that sprang up towards his face.

"See? Your temper is not controlled at all."

Darcy gritted her teeth.

"Well, if I am so ordinary compared to those Asgardian princesses, then why do you even bother wasting your oh so precious time with me?"

How he loved her sarcasm, how badly she hid herself being offended.

She put up a fight but he easily pulled her tight, wrapping his arms around her while his lover bristled with anger.

Leaning closer, his lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear.

"And yet, to compare you to any other woman would be an act of lunacy, for my love for any other is _nothing_ compared to my love for you."

Her cheeks pressed to his, he felt the sides of her mouth pulling up into a grin.

"Idiot."

* * *

_My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;_  
_ Coral is far more red than her lips' red;_  
_ If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;_  
_ If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head._  
_ I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,_  
_ But no such roses see I in her cheeks; _  
_ And in some perfumes is there more delight_  
_ Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks._  
_ I love to hear her speak, yet well I know_  
_ That music hath a far more pleasing sound;_  
_ I grant I never saw a goddess go;_  
_ My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:_  
_And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare_  
_As any she belied with false compare.  
(William Shakespeare)  
_

__Little Note: This one was actually read by Tom Hiddleston, check Youtube, it's worth it!


	2. Vex My Heart Alone

_Inspired by 'Resquiescat' by Oscar Wilde._

With a swift movement, Loki adjusted his tie, wiping off any lint from the dark green fabric. She loved this colour on him, he knew.

One look in the mirror helped him checking his outfit. A black suit, a white shirt, the tie – everything was impeccable.

"You look dashing, gorgeous.", a soft voice commented.

Loki turned around and faced a young woman, mid twenty. Dark curls framed a heart-shaped face with sparkling blue eyes and full, rosy lips that twisted up into an appreciating smile.

"Darcy."

She stretched out her fine hands and gently stroke over his shoulders and his chest as if setting everything in place. Her touch was light, almost impossible to feel. Then she rose her head to look into the god's emerald eyes.

"I know how you like the colour. You always said it matches my eyes.", Loki smiled at her.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "It does indeed."

Her voice was soothing to him. He leant down to give her a kiss but she teasingly jumped back and grinned at him.

"No cuddling today, big boy. Don't you know we've got plans?"

Loki pouted slightly. Then he went through his hair and swallowed. "Of course. Why else would I dress this fancy?"

Darcy pushed her hands into her hips and threw him a reproaching glance.

"Well, hurry then! We can't be late!", she chided.

Loki could not help but smile at her again. "You are right."

The air was filled with the smell of mown grass, the scent of the first drops of rain on warm ground and the sound of the wind rushing through the trees.

They were walking, side by side, their hands almost touching, so close Loki could feel the warmth of her skin. But she wouldn't let him hold her hand. Stubborn girl, didn't she know how he craved her touch?

"This is so beautiful!", she said and admired the great lawn, the beautiful landscape that seemed to extend until infinity. "So peaceful, too."

Loki nodded. A bouquet of white lilies lightly bounced in his right hand with every step of his.

"I had hoped you would like this place."

Darcy beamed at him and his heart clenched. She was so beautiful, how the sun was caught in her auburn her, how her fair skin was slightly flushed with the warmth of the sun – so beautiful it hurt.

"And you remembered the lilies, too.", she added.

Loki cleared his throat and looked down on the spray.

"How could I forget?", he said, maybe only to himself.

The path furcated and while Loki turned to the right, Darcy hesitated. He turned around, surprised not to find her by his side.

"Aren't you coming?", he wondered.

Darcy only looked a him and shook her head, her waves shaking like the leaves on the trees.

Loki furrowed his brows and stuck out his hand. "Come on!"

But Darcy didn't move. "You know I can't."

Loki felt tears burning in the corners of his eyes. "I need you to come.", he whispered.

Darcy sighed. "I never wanted to leave you.", she said.

"Then why did you?", he suddenly shouted, scaring a couple of birds close by that flew away with loud and angry chirping.

It left Darcy unmoved. She made a step towards him and her face was covered in sadness.

"I had no choice. No-one does." Her hand reached out, her fingertips only a hair's breadth away from his, but still not touching. And deep down, Loki knew why.

He closed his eyes, feeling the searing hot tears dripping from his lashes and as he opened them, Darcy was gone.

He took the right path and after a few steps, he found what he come for.

A silent sob broke through his chest and shook him. Gently, trying not to make any disturbing sound, he placed the flowers down on the perfectly made bed and felt his tormented heart stutter.

He looked down on the place where his whole existence laid, where the one thing he needed and the one thing that was lost forever to him rested in eternal peace.

The grave of Darcy Lewis.

* * *

_Tread lightly, she is near_  
_Under the snow, _  
_Speak gently, she can hear _  
_The daisies grow. _

_All her bright golden hair _  
_Tarnished with rust, _  
_She that was young and fair _  
_Fallen to dust. _

_Lily-like, white as snow, _  
_She hardly knew _  
_She was a woman, so _  
_Sweetly she grew. _

_Coffin-board, heavy stone, _  
_Lie on her breast, _  
_I vex my heart alone, _  
_She is at rest. _

_Peace, peace, she cannot hear _  
_Lyre or sonnet, _  
_All my life's buried here, _  
_Heap earth upon it._  
(_Oscar Wilde)_


	3. For whose dear love I rise and fall

Dedicated to a very faithful reader and helper, the ever so lovely Sara606091. And to all you other people as well!

* * *

_Inspired by Sonnet 151 by William Shakespeare._

Night, just before dawn. A night pitchblack by the clouds that hung on the sky.

Not that he needed the dark to blend in. But it was appreciated, for it made it easier, much easier to do what he had come for.

She had left the window open, only ajar, but enough for him to sneek in. _By accident, or on purpose?_, he wondered but quickly pushed the thought aside. It did not matter. His body led him, pulling him towards her.

She lay in bed, the thin blanket only covering her body up to her waist, her head pillowed on the cushion, her hands almost folded next to her face.

As he gazed upon her, he could not help but be startled by his reaction to her closeness. His heart, how it beated, how his fingers were almost itching to touch her, his stomach flooded with heat and his head so empty – her sight left the eloquent and controlled god of mischief speech- and mindless. _How does she do it?_, he mused. _A sorceress, an enchantress, hidden in a human body._

Then, her breathing changed, less deep, less heavy. She awoke.

Her eyes opened far too quickly for her to have been pulled out of a deep slumber. She sat up in her bed, her forehead covered with wrinkles, her eyebrows angrily pulled together upon realizing who paid her a visit. Loki did not even try to disguise himself.

"You?", she whispered. "What do you think you are doing here?"

Loki squared his shoulders. "Do not play coy.", he answered, half smiling. "You knew I would be coming. Again", he added.

Darcy's jaw dropped and she sucked in air. "Yeah, I somehow thought you would be smarter."

"I am afraid, I am left without control of my actions when it comes to you."

Darcy swallowed. "Go." She cleared her throat. "I want you to leave."

Loki ignored her. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and locked his eyes onto hers. "Why?" His fingers threaded into her wayward hair.

Angrily, Darcy pushed him away. "You know why. I told you why. This isn't what I want. In case you didn't notice, smart boy, there are always two in a relationship. What you want, you got throughout the last month. What about what I want?"

Loki grinned. Of course he knew. She had told him today, had tried to break up. Told him that she wanted more. That he just loved her physically. But she wanted more.

"You know, you are very bigot, my dear.", he said calmly and traced down the curves of her body.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you accuse me of a sin that you are a slave of." He let his hand travel down her shoulder, caressing the naked skin of her arm. Goosebumps followed the trace of his fingers, proving him right.

She shook his hand off, hissing at him. "Don't flatter yourself. And even _if_ I was, that doesn't change a freaking thing."She leant away from him. "I still can't be with someone who doesn't love me."

Within a heartbeat, Loki had grabbed her wrists, had pinned them down to the mattress and was hovering over Darcy, ignoring her suprised squeal and her angry winding.

"Let go!", she cried.

He softened his grip but still did not release her. Her scent was swirling around him, a scent like roses, lavender, soap and sun – intoxicating and distracting. The heat of her body that crept through his skin was almost unbearable. Inside, his conscience tried to reason with his desires and failed miserably.

He pressed his cheek against hers and let his lips touch her ears.

"You see, this is where you are mistaken, my love. Believe me when I tell you that my body and its desires may seem the dominant part of me but only because you completely drive me. You, with your beauty and your perfection, it is you who makes me forget about all my reasonable senses. I am a slave to you in every aspect one can be." He pulled back his head to stare into her eyes. In the back of his head he noticed how she had stopped fighting. Her eyes were open, wide, blue pools of surprise.

She lifted her head, just a little bit, and to his relief she pressed her lips onto his. It sent his body over the edge and jolts of need through his veins.

The argument could wait.

* * *

Panting, sweating, filled with satisfaction they laid next to each other, Darcy in his arms, her hands on his chest, his arm caging her.

Darcy rolled her eyes and, her voice still as shaky as her breath, sighed: "What is it about you? Damn, seriously!"

Loki chuckled. "See, this is what I was trying to explain. You think my desire for you is simply want. But you are wrong." He gently stroke her back with his fingertips. "Why on earth would I do this..." He pressed his cold lips on the sensitive spot beneath her ear "or this..." his hands travelled down her stomach, gently stroking her hips and sending shivers over her body. "... with someone I would not truly care for?"

Darcy swallowed and then let out a sigh when she reached for his back and pulled him closer.

"You called me 'my love'.", she whispered and pressed her head into his neck, shyly avoiding his glance. "Unconsciously or on purpose?", she murmured and he could make out the real question behind her words.

He let his finger slip under her chin and lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"Definitely consciously, for my love for you is what truly rules me.", he said, more solemnly than intended, but it was true nonetheless.

Her lips slightly parted, she blinked in surprise. Then she flashed him a grin and pressed another sloppy kiss on his lips.

Pulling back, the look on her face changed from joy to pure naughtiness.

"You said, I drive you...", she whispered into his ear and Loki unvoluntarily quivered when her hand glided down his stomach, gently cupping him.

He let out a hiss and impatiently hovered over her again. He was helpless when it came to her.

His body wanted and his mind allowed him to – happily.

_Love is too young to know what conscience is,_  
_Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?_  
_Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, _  
_Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. _  
_For, thou betraying me, I do betray_  
_My nobler part to my gross body's treason; _  
_My soul doth tell my body that he may _  
_Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason, _  
_But rising at thy name doth point out thee _  
_As his triumphant prize; proud of this pride, _  
_He is contented thy poor drudge to be, _  
_To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. _  
_No want of conscience hold it that I call _  
_Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.  
__(William Shakespeare)  
_


	4. HEART, we will forget him

_Inspired by a poem by Emily Dickinson._

"GET OUT!"

The glass she threw crashed against the wall and broke into thousand little pieces. Its original target hap evaporated, had cowardly evaded her wrath. And her flying vessels.

The floor was covered in shards of glass, porcelain, even plastic.

_Damnit Lewis, how on earth are you going to clean that mess?_

It was all his fault, anyway. And now she had to clean because of him.

Darcy let out a frustrated scream. "Bastard!", she spat out, knowing he wouldn't hear her. And even if he did, why the hell would he care? He didn't care. Never had.

Another fight. Same procedure as every day. Well not every day. Though it sure felt like that. Darcy brushed through her curls and shot evil glances at the mess on her floor. He would not change. For crying out loud, she knew he would never change. And still, his coldness hurt her more often than she would care to admit. Two sides of him she could not put together – how could one so passionate and even warm still be so cruel and distastefully cold?

It was nothing new, though. How often had she accused him of being a cold-hearted son of a bitch? How often had she wished him to be a little more caring? Roughly calculated? Too often.

"And now?", she said silently, the anger still roaring in her guts, making it hard to stand still.

Her eyes darted to the fridge. Oh yes.

Typical college student. Her fridge only held bare necessities. Toast, energy drinks and vodka. Well, we can work with that!, she thought. Alcohol, solution – and origin – to all problems!

Three large glasses of vodka-red bull later, Darcy felt the first tingle of a tipsiness creep up her head. Oh yeah!Some annoying voice in the back of her head tried to remember her that drinking would only leave her even more depressed. She tried to cut it out. In vain. She needed something louder than her own thoughts.

Her hand reached for the remote to her docking station and she went through her iPod, searching for the right music. Something loud, something to shout out into the night, something to send that sleazy, stupid, god-damned... well, god to hell!

The first song was definitely to her taste. 'Gives you hell'_. _Oh, she definitely would give him hell! The volume turned up as far as possible, Darcy jumped to the center of her room, her glass her imaginary microphone.

"When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!" Her voice cracked but she didn't give a fuck. Louder, until he heard her, heard how little she cared!

_Why the hell did he leave? Why did he care so little?_

"Come on, heart, work with me!", she uttered through her gritted teeth. "We are going to forget about him!"

She took another big sip, only to find her glass empty. While filling up, less energy and more vodka, she cried out into the night: "Truth be told I miss you and truth be told I'm lying!" Hopefully her neighbours were no light sleepers.

"Now you'll never see, what you've done to me. You can take back your memories, they're no good to me! Here's all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad sad look that you wear so weeeell!"

She was so going to have a sore throat tomorrow. The song ended and another one was played.

Paloma Negra. From the 'Frida' soundtrack.

Oh-oh_._ She knew that movie, and she knew exactly when _that_ song was played. When Diego, that cheating bastard, had left Frida. And she had sat down, with a bottle of booze, as well, and had drowned herself in alcohol, as well.

Darcy dropped to the floor, spilling half of the content of her glass over her shirt. She emptied the rest and grabbed the bottle, her mind already dizzied.

With a dramatic gesture, she raised her bottle. "To us sisters in mind!", she toasted, put the bottle to her lips and took a big sip.

She spoke no Spanish, sadly. Had always wanted to. Education and stuff. But she felt like she knew exactly what the throaty and bitter singer was singing about.

Her heart stumbled in her chest, reminding her of its problems. It didn't like being alone.

"Me neither...", Darcy mumbled, tears burning in her eyes.

_I want him back!_, her heart demanded.

"Me too. Not possible, though. You need to forget. Like, right now." It was difficult speaking without her tongue being in her way. She looked at the empty bottle in her right hand. Oh. That would explain a lot.

_Forget?, _her heart asked.

"Yeah. And hurry, please. It kinda hurts.", she blabbered.

_Well, duh!_

Her heart dropped a few inches and Darcy let out a huff.

"Done already?"

_Are you kidding? Ever tried forgetting someone you love? Impossible!_

Someone she loved?

_Of course. Why else would it hurt so much?_

Someone she loved. Fuck.

Darcy sniffed and suddenly her boobs were wet. Hm? She lifted her hands and felt the tears streaming from her eyes down her cheeks, gathering by her chin and dripping down on her chest and the loose shirt she wore.

Oh. She swallowed and a sob escaped her lips. Not good.

The Spanish singer reached the climax of her clamour and Darcy accompanied her with her sobs.

God-damned Loki with his god-damned awesomeness and his fucking gorgeousness!

* * *

Ouch.

She felt the pain before she even opened her eyes. A hammer. Why would someone hit a hammer on her head?

Darcy opened her eyes only to squeeze them shut immediately. Good lord, why the hell was the day so freaking bright?

Forcing her eyes open again, she was blinded by the insufferable sun. Gradually, her eyes adapted to the light and to her great surprise, she was no longer on the floor.

Someone gently brushed through her hair with his fingers, while her head was bedded on his thighs, a thin blanket – _her_ blanket – wrapped around her.

She knew these legs. They had been tangled with hers often.

Darcy turned her head and met a pair of vivid light green eyes, a sharp nose and a pair of thin lips pulled up into a grin.

"Loki?", she mumbled, ignoring the throbbing pain in her throat.

"Good morning, gorgeous. Though I have to admit, you have definitely looked better than today."

Darcy frowned. Images of the last night flashed before her eyes. The fight. The vodka. The singing. Oh fucking fuck fuck.

She jumped from his lap, ignoring the searing pain in her head and stared at him. "What the hell are you doing here? As far as I remember, I kicked your sorry ass out last night!" The anger fought its way back through her hangover.

Loki did not move, still grinning at her. "Oh, you mean before you decided to throw a little party?" His eyes darted to the empty bottle on her counter. "Please tell me you did not try to drown your sorrow with a bottle of that disgusting liquor you seem to favour."

Brooding fury built up in her chest. "Are you seriously trying to give me a lecture? If I want to freaking drown my sorrow then I am going to empty as many bottles as I chose to! Not that I would feel any sorrow because of you!" _Not very convincing, Darcy._

Shut it, heart.

Her opponent bit down on his lip, obviously keeping himself from bursting out into laughter.

That did it. "And stop grinning at like a freaking lunatic!", she shouted.

"I owe you an apology, I guess."

Darcy, prepared to shout again, hesitated. "Come again?", she asked, dumbstruck.

Loki got up from his seat way more elegant than she had, moving towards her with the elegance of a tiger. _God, why does he always gotta be so handsome? _He stood right before her, his hands snaking around hers and their fingers intertwining. She wanted to pull away, god knows she wanted to push him away, but her silly heart gave her a little nudge. That was what it had been asking for, the night before.

"My behaviour last night was unfair. Finding you here this morning, obviously miserable made me realize how badly I have treated you. I hope you will find it in you to forgive me."

Darcy blinked and ignored her thudding heart. Be still down there!

He had apologized. He. Had. Apologized. That was a new one. Her heart jumped again when one of his hands caressed her cheek. God, he played unfairly. And then, he leant in and kissed her, a kiss that turned her knees into melting wax and that made her heart applaud. Stupid thing.

Angrily, she pushed him away. "No, no!", she shook her head. "No, you can't just come back here, apologize, promise to be better and think this will solve the problem. This is not how it works, buddy!"

His long arms embraced her and he mischievously grinned down at her. "I never promised to be better.", he whispered against her lips.

Do not swoon, Darcy. God, this is not fair. His scent clouded her head and she gave into him, kissing him deeply again.

When they parted, she was still in his arms. She let her head rest against his chest. "You know, sometimes I really hate you."

She could feel him smile into her hair while his hands stroke her back. "No, you don't."

Darcy tried not to grin. "No, I don't." On the contrary. But she wouldn't tell him. Not yet.

_See, I told you you loved him,_ her heart whispered.

Oh, shut up.

_HEART, we will forget him!  
You and I, to-night!  
You may forget the warmth he gave,  
I will forget the light.  
_

_When you have done, pray tell me,  
That I my thoughts may dim;  
Haste! lest while you're lagging,  
I may remember him!_

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, this poem is definitely one of my favourite ones!  
And, just so you know, if you have any poem or maybe even a line, a quote, whatsoever, that you would like to see transformed, I am always open to suggestions and will answer every single request! So, feel free to suggest!_  
_


	5. Fire and ice

_Inspired by "Fire And Ice" by Robert Frost._

_Fire_

She had waited for him all day, hungry, wanting, needing. It was almost tragic how much she had longed for him. Finally the night and the darkness fell upon New Mexico and she waited in her flat. It was only minutes past midnight. He would come, surely it was only a matter of minutes.

She found herself drumming her fingers against her knees, tidying up for the sake of distraction only to leave behind a greater mess. Her thoughts drifted off and her eyes fixated the clock on the wall.

Trying to calm down, she leant back against the rest of her sofa, her hands combing through her hair. It was much more relaxing when it were _his_ fingers.

"Waiting for someone?"

That voice. Her eyes shot open and caught a glimpse of a figure in the shadow of her curtains. That body. Loki, grinning, his eyes full of mischief.

With one jump, she was in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands buried in his slick hair, her lips pressed against his with unhidden hunger.

He responded to her touch as eagerly as she. His hands grabbed her backside, holding her close to him while he crushed his lips against hers fervently. In his arms, she was a raw nerve, sensitive to every kind of touch.

"Finally!", she whispered against his impatient mouth and devoured a deep kiss, their tongues dancing.

She wanted to jump him, right here, right now. Good god, how he made her feel! Instead she slid off him, slightly embarrassed by her stormy reaction to him. Her hands brushed over her clothes, smoothing over the wrinkles her passionate hug had created.

Loki grinned upon noticing her embarrassment. "I am glad to see you, too."

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out to him. _Smartass._ "Took you long enough." she chided, her hands resting on his shoulders again. He had to be magnetic. She just could not stop touching him. Her fingers dug into the heavy leathery pads on his arms and she grew impatient with it. _Heavens, woman, get a grip and stop pawing him!_, she tried to reason with herself. But desire was a bitch.

His smirk grew even wider and his eyes shot to her hands tugging at his armour. "I can tell you have been waiting for me to return." Amusement sparkled in his gorgeous green eyes.

Darcy cleared her throat, embarrassed that he seemed to see through her so easily. Loki smiled smugly, tying her stomach into knots. He bent over, his lips brushing against her neck and his hands dipping deftly under her shirt, travelling from her stomach to her chest, gently cupping her breasts.

Swallowing heavily, Darcy closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his head, letting him take the lead, loving how he dominated her in a truly satisfying way. He pulled her into his lap, making her straddle him and removed her shirt as well as her bra. His cold, thin lips hungrily sucked on the delicate skin of her cleavage and Darcy sighed. Her fingers threaded through his fine black hair and she pleasurably closed her eyes, feeling the coolness of him against the heat that radiated off her skin. Her thighs clenched and relaxed with his movements, pressing against his legs and she felt him reacting to her as well, something building beneath her lap.

Had he been controlled and patient before, his excitement now took over him. He turned them around so suddenly Darcy had no time to react and he pushed her into the cushions almost violently, ripping her clothes off of her. A whispered spell and his clothes were gone, too. Usually she hated him for depriving her of the pleasure of undressing him but now, feeling the weight of his body on hers and the pulse of his arousal against her body, she did not mind. Loki grabbed her hips and, as he bent over her awaiting figure, he kissed her hard and traced the line of her sides from her supple breast to her full hips before impatiently entering her.

One could call their love-making aggressive but Darcy did not care. Wherever his fingers dug into her flesh, his teeth scratched her skin or his voice reverberated in her ears, she wanted _more_. Willingly she let him do what he wanted to do, being all his as he made her _beg_ for more. If the world ended now, she would not have noticed. A fire ignited in her that burnt away her thoughts and left her smouldering. It was consummating, fulfilling, relentless.

_Ice_

Strong, long arms drew her to his chest again, his beautiful face pressed into her hair. Darcy swallowed heavily and enjoyed having a beautiful man by her side. His scent filled her nose and she could hear his loud and even heartbeat as she curled to his chest. Her breath was more even, her heart had stopped racing and her mind was clear again, now they both hat gotten rid of their stored-up tension.

She drew her head back and looked into his eyes. "So, what have you been up to? I mean, I guess you are still... working?"

Loki looked at her, the tenderness and affection he had displayed before washed out of it. "I already told you I can not share anything with you. And that my plans have not changed.", he said coolly. Darcy sighed and dropped her head, avoiding his direct glance.

"I know. I just thought..." She bit her tongue. _Shut it. _"I just thought you would have changed your mind."

Loki let go of her and a cold haughtiness distorted his features. "I thought I made it clear I would not change my plans. Not for _anyone._"

Her stomach clenched. That had hurt. "Yeah, you made it perfectly clear how other people are of little concern to you. You have displayed that pretty often, thanks for sharing." Angered, she curled away from him and sat up on the edge of her mattress, the sheets wrapped around her.

His nostrils widened. "You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into, Darcy Lewis. Now don't act like a child and _grow up_. Behave like an adult and accept your choices. You want something else? Go get it then!", he shouted.

Her breath got heavier as the fury that had built up throughout the last couple of hours twisted her guts. She had been the one who had stood by his side throughout all the crap he had pulled! How dared he reproaching her? How dared he referring to her as childish?

"_I_ am supposed to grow up? You are the one acting like a freaking child! _I_ am the one who cares about your ungrateful selfish ass and all I want you to do is show a little respect in return!" Angrily she stepped away from him, trying to hide the tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. She didn't come too far, though.

Loki blocked her way, reappearing in front of her. His expression tore her heart apart. His anger had made way for something even worse: disdain.

"Oh, I see where this is going. Have you indulged in the girlish fantasy of turning the evil guy? Do not fool yourself. I have made perfectly clear who I was before we entertained this little fling. Do not mistake me for someone I will never be."

Her blood had stopped rushing, her indignation had evaporated. Left was only ice-cold shock. His words picked her heart apart bit by bit. She could only stare at him. Was he even listening to what he was saying? Why would he treat her like that? Why would he want to hurt her so much?

Loki read her expressions, his own traits sobering as he recognized her feelings. " Do not apply double standards. You can't enjoy the monster being your lover while you hate dealing with it outside your bed. Accept me fully or not at all."

She dared not look into his eyes. Did he even know how hard it was for her to bear with his temper? How often he had crushed her feelings, crushed her heart? Tears blazed her cheeks like acid and she did not bother wiping them away.

He would not apologize. For in his eyes, he had not wronged her. But what about her?

He squared his shoulders and picked up his clothes, dressing himself. Not quickly, not embarrassed, in a usual pace. Darcy just stood there, motionless. What now?

He finished and took place next to her again. He bent down to place a kiss on her hairline, ignoring her pulling her head away from him.

"I will leave you to your thoughts. Try and be honest with yourself. If you do not wish me to return, just say so.", his voice a whisper. Was he afraid she'd want him to go forever?

_Yes, go. Get your sorry ass out of here and leave me for my sanity's sake. I can't take you anymore, I can't stand this heartless cruelty any longer. Go and never ever return._

She wanted to say it, badly, to shout it at him with all her vocal chords' power. It would solve so many problems. But she did not find the courage to. Instead she turned her head for the first time towards him, shot him a quick glance and tried to put everything in her heart into that one look: Hatred, anger, loath, love, hurt, sorrow, hope, all mingled in a stinging blur.

Maybe he understood. He kissed her forehead one more time, than disappeared into the dawn, leaving nothing behind but his scent that clung to her body.

Darcy dropped down on the floor, her knees pulled together by her arms and she pressed her face into her legs, letting the tears drop down and let them wash out her inner conflict. It would take her all day again to pull herself together again. To rebuild what he so carelessly had destroyed. But she would wait for him, again. Foolish, as she was. Forgiving him was so much easier than hating him. She licked her salty lips and let her forehead drop to her knees. He would return to her. She needed him. With all his desire and all his destruction.

_Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To know that for destruction ice  
Is also great,  
And would suffice.  
(Robert Frost)  
_

* * *

A/N: A new chapter for you guys, sorry it took me so long but this was a tough one! I really hope you enjoy this and will leave a review, feel free to speak your mind, whether you liked this one or not! Also, thank you to all you anonymous readers who posted reviews as a guest!


	6. Parting

**A/N: Long time no see in here! But here I am, back with another drabble based on a poem. I had this idea forever since I adore the poem it is inspired by but I just recently stumbled upon my partial draft of it, hidden in the depth of my laptop! So I took the time to finish it and this is it!  
Again, I would love to hear your honest opinion, whether you liked it or not, I am always open to criticism!  
Also, if you have any wishes, anything you'd like to read, feel free to tell me so, I will always respond!**

**And now, without further ado: _Parting__.  
_While I wrote I listened to 'Crystalized' by The xx and 'Closer' by Travis._  
_**

* * *

_Inspired by a poem by Emily Dickinson._

The ice cold wind brushes her cheek and sends a tingling shiver down her spine. Again, Darcy checks her watch.

_He is late._ She sighs and pushes her slender fingers through her soft hair, messing up the curls as she is wont to do whenever worry wraps around her heart. _But why?_

Leaning back against the door of her car, she swallows deeply and tries not to stare at the hands of the watch that move fast, so agonizingly fast. Why isn't he here?

The wind ruffles through the dry trees nearby and the sound of the air stroking the hollow wood adds to Darcy's dark mood. It is already past midnight and two hours have passed since she has parked her car in the usual spot, outside of Puente Antiguo, far away from anyone in the shadow of one of the impressive mountains covering the surface of the desert.

He has chosen this place and she knows why. It is undisclosed, shielded from any curious glances. And it is where she has first met him, has laid eyes on him and where in the end has lost her heart to the god with the cold skin and the fiery eyes.

The crack of a branch makes her jolt up in surprise. _Only a rabbit_, she tries to calm her racing heart. But there was something moving, something stepping outside of the shadow, something tall, lean, a head held high with pride and steps as confident as they can be.

She wants to storm right into his arms, to press herself into his chest and smell his familiar scent but she knows she has to wait.

"What was the last thing I told you the last time we saw each other?"

_Damn him and his suspiciousness_, Darcy thought angrily. But deep down, she knows he has a point. There are too many people out there trying to catch him.

Her voice calm, she answers: "You told me to look out for myself." Her eyes flicker from him to her hands and back. "And I told you to do the same.", she adds huskily.

Out of nowhere sinewy arms are winded around her and she happily presses herself against the chest plate of his armour, her forehead resting against the soft skin of his neck while his nose is deeply buried in her hair. She can feel his pulse against her temple, quick, restless, strong. He is alive.

"I thought you would never come...", Darcy whispers mindlessly, her head clouded with the sheer relief of having him by her side.

Loki's hand gently stroke her back while the other one rests on her neck. "I was delayed."

She pulls her head back and gazes into the fathomless green of his eyes. "Yeah, I figured."

His face looks horribly tired, his eyes so bloodshot as if someone has painted the fine veins with a fine red pencil. His skin, usually pure ivory like pristine marble, is now dull, gray, lifeless, as if deprived of oxygen.

Loki seems to witness the worry mirroring in her face and his fingers softly caress her cheek. It is now that she notices the wound on his hand and arm, only superficial and it won't take his magic long to heal them. But it startles her that he would even let anything harm him.

His index finger brushes her lashes. "Do I look that awful?", he asks. It is supposed to sound jokingly but Darcy knows him too well to fall for his charade.

She rises on her tiptoes and kisses the wounds on his hand. "You simply look tired. And I don't like the thought of you being hurt."

The hint of a smile curls the end of his lips upwards. "That's way better.", Darcy says and gives him a satisfied smile.

Loki releases her from his embrace and leans onto the bonnet of her car. He scratches his face with both his hands and releases a sigh while slicking back his velvet hair.

Darcy takes place next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, her curls spread all over his back and arm.

For a moment, neither of them says a word. The darkness, the cold and the silence are strangely comforting. It is Darcy who speaks first.

"So, what did delay you?", she asks, well aware of the fact that he rarely shares any part of his schemes with her and she knows he hates having her go on and on. But that doesn't mean that she gives up that easily.

To her great surprise, he chooses to answer. "You know I was gone for several days.", he says quietly.

She nods. Of course she knows – it had taken all her limited patience and a lot of her precious nerves to deal with his absence, even if it was only for a couple of days.

Loki doesn't look at her, his gaze vacant as he continues. "I have finally reached what I was aiming for. And tomorrow, my plan will come to its end." He turns his head to face her, his face a mask of indifference. "The army of SHIELD may come and fight me but I highly doubt they will succeed."

It takes her a moment to put together what he has just told her. And then it clicks into place.

"You are planning to fight them?" Nervousness tickles inside her body, her stomach feeling like it is dropping a few inches. He responds with a nod.

"Don't.", she reacts on impulse. _He can't be serious. _"Loki, they are going to tear you apart!"

The dark-haired god responds with a huff. "They are no match for me."

There is something about his confidence that deeply worries her. It is one thing to be sure if oneself, another to be so conceited that you underestimate your opponent, or worse: overestimate yourself.

Her hand grabs his shoulder tightly and stares right into his eyes, somehow hoping to make him understand. "I don't care whether you are too damn stupid to see this clearly or whether you choose to ignore what is right in front of you, but I am dead serious!" He wants to get up but her grasp secures him in place. "Loki, this is crazy! Harnessing the tesseract is one thing but they are too powerful, they will best you!"

Without noticing it, her voice has become far louder than she wants to but it mirrors what she feels: Panic.

But all her lover does is give her a look of indignation. "Best me? Darcy, his is ridiculous. I have an army to command, what are five petty soldiers to me?"

Her jaw drops in anger. "Soldiers? They are freaking superheros! A man in an invincible armour, a green monster, high-class spies, your brother, a freaking _god_!"

He moves too fast for her to hold him back and in one move he is on his feet, his fists clenched, his teeth grinding on each other. "You should know better than to think my relation to him would stop me."

Darcy gets up as well, her brows furrowed, her heart racing in her chest. "I know you don't care. But I don't think that Thor will be able to save you if you keep on acting like a child! They won't show you any mercy if you threaten them!"

Loki laughs bitterly. "Oh, is this your concern, that I might be too pushy for them?", he asks arrogantly.

It is his tone that makes her snap. "No, I am afraid that you are going to die and that I may never ever see you again!", she shouts into the night.

She tries in vain to fight back the tears that dwell in the corners of her eyes. Loki is surprisingly quiet, considering he is no-one to easily be shouted at. His shoulders drop and his hands unclench while he stares at her, his face unmoved.

"The idea of you, dead..." Her voice cracks but she needs him to know. She needs him to know that, even though he has a hard time accepting it, there _is_ someone who cares, someone who can't bear the thought of never seeing him again. "I don't care whatever nefarious plans you have, whatever you are planning to do, I simply don't care. I just need to know that you are going to get out of it alive."

He frowns slightly, deeply exhaling through his perfect nose. "I didn't think this was so important to you.", he mutters. He sounds as if he is surprised she cares. And as if he is afraid of it.

Darcy brushes the tears out of her eyes and wipes them off her cheeks. "You are important to me. I thought I made that clear.", she replies. "Very important."

Now it is indeed fear that shines on his face. Nevertheless, he moves closer to her, cradling her wet face with his palms. Darcy lets her hands rest on his narrow hips and gazes into his eyes.

"One day, you are going to regret this.", he whispers. He sounds surprisingly sad, apparently thinks she is making a mistake. This is a warning he gives her.

It doesn't matter. And with all her heart, she decides to ignore it. "Stop trying to push me away. I knew what I was getting myself into. And so far, I found that it is worth the risk I am taking." She keeps her eyes locked with his, blue staring into green.

For one second, he seems hesitant, doubtful, afraid to let the words she has just uttered sink in. But then, she sees the change in him. And he bends his beautiful head and gives her a kiss so tender it turns her knees into melting wax.

The back of her knees hit the car and with a gentle push, Darcy sits down in the bonnet again, Loki firmly locked between her spread legs. He breaks the kiss for a moment and they face each other.

"I will not die. And I will make sure you will see me again.", he promises, almost solemnly.

"Don't promise anything. Thor made a promise to Jane and never returned."

She half expects him to get mad at the mention of his brother but maybe it is the tears that drop from her lashes or her broken expression that wake hidden feelings stronger than his silly issues.

His hands cup her cheeks again and he comes so close their noses brush each other, so close all she can see is the earnestness in his eyes.

"This is not a promise. This is a vow." And he seals it with a kiss.

* * *

Even through her closed lids she can feel the brightness of the rising sun. Darcy lets the warmth and light sink into her skin, timidly opening her eyes, slowly adapting to the newly come day.

Her head pillowed on her own arm, she realizes she is still lying on the backseat of her car where she had fallen asleep last night, her clothes carelessly piled up on the floor. All that is missing is the man she had fallen asleep next to.

Her heart is heavy when she gets up, slicking back her messy curls. It is then her eyes fall on the piece of cloth that snugly wraps around her body, covering her naked form. It is soft as velvet yet she knows it is of strong material – of Asgardian material. It is Loki's cloak, dark green and floor-length. She suddenly knows he left it on purpose, a gift to her. Something to cling on to, instead of him.

Darcy doesn't know whether she wants to cry or smile while cuddling into the soft fabric, inhaling the familiar fragrance it carries. She decides to do both.

* * *

It is Jane who delivers the news to her. The Avengers won. Darcy heart stopped for a second, only to stumble into its even pattern again when Jane tells her they captured Loki.

_He is alive._

They are there at the park where Thor leaves with his brother to face Asgardian punishment. The sight of him gagged and cuffed, the man whose hands had caressed her, whose lips had kissed her. It takes all her strength to keep herself from crying.

They use the tesseract to return to Asgard. While Thor stares at Jane, whose lips are still a little red from their ardent good-bye kiss, Darcy knows exactly what Loki looks at. His eyes are firmly set on her face and even though his face is almost fully covered by that bloody gag, she can see in his eyes the same sorrow she feels, too.

When they evaporate, Jane gives Darcy a little thump and smiles widely, knowing she will see Thor again soon.

"Girl, why are you wearing black? This is a happy day!", she giggles like a little girl.

Darcy shrugs, her eyes still focused on the spot where the two gods had disappeared from. "Just felt like it." It is fit for a parting.

_My life closed twice before its close;  
It yet remains to see  
If Immortality unveil  
A third event to me,  
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,  
As these that twice befell.  
Parting is all we know of heaven,  
And all we need of hell.  
(Emily Dickinson)  
_


End file.
